An example

For my first post I have decided an example would be appropriate. So this is what happened on Friday the 11Th of June 2010.

I am currently living in Worthing finishing my first year of a two year degree course studying stage management.

I don't like this course.

In fact I would go so far as to say I hate it. I dislike the building, I dislike the budgets, but I Hate my tutor; and the feeling is mutual.
We don't get along for the very simple reason, I know her games and I'm better at them than she is.

But I digress.

On this particular Friday I awoke in my comfortable bed to hear the sound of a torrential downpour, normaly this is an omen that the day will be bad.
Normaly this prediction isn’t that unlikely as the rain normaly plays havoc with my joints and causes me too much pain to do much more than give orders and oversee progress.

I had arranged the previous day for a lift into Uni, partly because I wanted the company but mostly so that if I am late I can blame someone else. This lift worked out well as the rain would have made the walk rather uncomfortable. Not to say that I wouldn’t have walked in the downpour, I have, it’s just not the nicest experience in the world. The lift was nice, I found a good place to wait under a tree to keep try, and stable enough to rest my pack on. During the ride I had a good conversation with Andy.

Andy is my friend; he is in the second year and is professional and competent. I like Andy because although he is agreeable on the surface he has real feelings and drives that are powerful enough to compel him to better things.
On the drive we talked about these things and more specifically how important it is to be good at what you do, and no matter of training will improve you if you don’t have natural talent.

When we arrive at college we found that the doors to our classroom are locked and as no one is in access is impossible. Not a problem for us, as we are in the theatre witch in unlocked and so we can get things ready for the next set of shows.
After getting ready I hear my tutor so I disappear. Disappearing is easy if you know how, dressed in my theatre blacks I predict her movements and shadow her, the structure of the theatre makes this easy as all I have to do is stay above her on the fly-floors or gantries or behind the flats and curtains. While I am following her I overhear her conversation to Andy.

To paraphrase, Andy is unhappy that he is not getting the best possible grade, he alleges that his work is up to par and the reasons that he is not getting the best grade is due to the incompetence of his peers and the people who signed off on his work experience. Her reply was a short no. She then massaged his ego and justified her position by saying, and again I am paraphrasing. Grades aren’t everything and he is good enough to excel without them. She then turned the blame onto him saying that it was his fault that his peers didn’t generate the paperwork he needed because he didn’t hound them for it. Then she left. Well I wasn’t having that so I swooped down and coached Andy to what she really said, so he wasn’t taken in.

After that I spent some time reading a book on my fly floor.

Then I went to our classroom, saw that our tutor was there, kept on walking to the room next to it and talked to a costume designer about her Dr Who costume with a sonic screwdriver. So I borrow the screwdriver and walk back into my classroom. Almost immediately I am hounded by two guys Josh a fellow first year and Kelvin a second year. They explain to me that the internet is down and that the I.T department are unhappy with us.

To clarify they are unhappy with me, because I found a way to print from our laptops bypassing the credit system that charges us exorbitant rates for printing. The only reason I perused the wireless printing is that the computers kept breaking so we couldn’t print the college’s way.

Anyway I investigated the problem and found that I.T’s bold move was to unplug the routers in the adjacent room (see fig one) preventing us from getting a wireless signal in our room, however they couldn’t unplug the router in the tutors room because they use it, so wireless connection is still available in the adjacent room. I sat down in this room to read my emails when suddenly I hear loud shouts of my
name.

Leaping out of the door frame to general amazement the nature of the problem quickly becomes apparent; a small bird has hit our window and is lying twitching on the ground. I quickly call for a box to get the creature off the floor, when what seems as everyone else that heard comes running eager to give their advice about what to do, some think that it’s a baby bird others think I have killed it. I tell that I do know exactly what I am doing and that I have done it many times before. A box is acquired and as I prepare to gently pick up the bird with a rag so not as to touch it, jack swoops down chastising us for being babies, pick up the bird by the foot lifting it roughly to the box and dropping it. Angrily I explain that it was not dead and as he is suitably upset I leave the matter at that. Putting the bird in a warm dark place it heals and I realise it back into the world.

All this happens before one o’clock